Explore "The Heart of the Sourdough" by Robert W. Service on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon; / There where the sullen sundogs glare in the snow-bright, bitter noon, / And the glacier-gutted streams sweep down at the clarion call of June: / There where the livid tundras keep their tryst with the tranquil snows; / There where the Silences are spawned, and the light of hellfire flows / Into the bowl of the midnight sky, violet, amber, and rose: / There where the rapids churn and roar, and the ice-floes bellowing run; / Where the tortured, twisted rivers of blood rush to the setting sun --
I've packed my kit and I'm going, boys, ere another day is done.